All Part of the Job
by Higuchimon
Summary: Arbormon entertains thoughts of what he does, why he does it, those he does it with, and those who stand against him doing it.


**Disclaimer:** I own nothing involved in this story unless I invented it myself. This is written for fun, not for profit. All forms of feedback eagerly accepted. Concrit is loved the most, but everything is welcome.  
 **Fandom:** Digimon Frontier  
 **Title:** All Part of the Job  
 **Characters:** Arbormon  
 **Word Count:** 850|| **Status:** One-shot  
 **Genre:** General|| **Rated:** PG  
 **Challenge:** Written for the Diversity Writing Challenge, section B11, 750-850 words; Collect the Legendary warriors, Spirit of Wood  
 **Summary:** Arbormon entertains thoughts of what he does, why he does it, those he does it with, and those who stand against him doing it.

* * *

Arbormon liked to get along with people. He'd liked that even before he'd been given the Spirits of Wood and began to work for Cherubimon-sama. For some reason that he'd never been able to fathom, people didn't like to get along with _him_.

He gave them advice. It wasn't his fault if they didn't follow it or didn't understand it.

He took the data of their homes and sometimes their own data from them. But there wasn't anything wrong with that, because that was what Cherubimon-sama wanted, and Cherubimon-sama couldn't be wrong. Arbormon couldn't even begin to fathom such a thought and didn't let it bother him anyway.

Even if there had been something wrong with it, Arbormon knew that he wouldn't have cared. It revolved back to the simple fact that Cherubimon-sama wanted it and Arbormon would do anything at all that his master desired of him.

Why? The reason on that was simple as well: Cherubmon-sama _valued_ him. He was one of the Legendary Warriors. People didn't give him looks as they had before. They didn't mutter about how ignorant he was or how he said things they didn't understand.

Arbormon didn't even remember what, or who, he'd been before becoming Arbormon. He didn't care. That Digimon wasn't exactly dead, since if he had been dead, Arbormon himself wouldn't exist now. But he didn't think about the past at all. The past didn't make a difference except to compare how much better the present was, and how much better than that the future _would_ be.

Of course, that did mean he had to work for it. No one would give him a glorious future without paying a price for it. Not even Cherubimon-sama. And he knew the payment quite well: taking the data from everyone and everything that he could, and these days, trying to find the human children who dared to call themselves Legendary Warriors and fight Cherubimon-sama.

Didn't they know better? They were children. Arbormon didn't know much about humans, but he thought he knew that children should stay safe in their beds at night and quietly wait to have their data taken away, and let the grown-ups fight useless wars. That was what children should do.

Not try to fight against creatures so much more powerful than they were.

Arbormon almost didn't want to fight them. He would, of course, but the thought of fighting against tiny creatures that he could smack around with little more than a flick of his fingers wasn't always a pleasant one. He didn't really _care_ about them, because he cared about no one and nothing that wasn't Cherubimon-sama and the pleasing of Cherubimon-sama. He just thought, on occasion, when he had a few spare instants, that perhaps this was a war they shouldn't be fighting.

Apparently no one had gotten around to telling them that, because they fought it, and they fought it hard, and no matter what any of his comrades wanted to admit, they fought it well.

Not that he'd talked to the other Legendary Warriors who served Cherubimon about their enemies. None of them would've wanted to talk to him anyway. Mercuremon and Ranamon cared too much about themselves and nothing else. Grottomon wasn't much like that, but he spent most of his time out and about fighting the humans and when he wasn't doing that, he was gathering up the Digital World's data.

In Arbormon's opinion, all work and no play made for a very dull Digimon, and Grottomon was about as dull as they came.

And then there was Duskmon. Duskmon seldom left his private quarters and when he did, it was only to stare up at the three moons, as if they meant something to him. Arbormon really wondered about him at times. It was a good idea to know something about one's comrades, even if one didn't especially like those comrades. Yet Duskmon had spoken only a handful of times since he'd joined them.

No one asked who the others had been before Cherubimon-sama chosen them. None of them wanted to talk about it at all. But something in the way Duskmon moved and looked at them made Arbormon wondered if his past was somehow _different_ from theirs.

He didn't think he'd ever know. Duskmon wouldn't tell. Duskmon kept his secrets as well as the darkness that powered him did. Maybe even better.

Arbormon made himself as comfortable as he could and waited for new orders. He didn't think Duskmon's secrets mattered that much overall. They would defeat their enemies, or Cherubimon-sama's enemies, and the whole of the Digital World would be made better, and that was all that he really cared about.

If it meant killing a handful of children who shouldn't have been in this world to begin with, then Arbormon knew that he didn't care. They'd just have to take their lumps like anyone else.

And if he should so happen to be the one handing out those lumps, then all the better, because it would help please Cherubimon-sama. That was all that he cared about in the end.

 **The End**

 **Note:** Thank you for reading and I hope that you enjoyed the story. Please let me know what you thought of it if at all possible.


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